


through the smoke to the sky

by yvenger (jjjat3am)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Juventus Turin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16193858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/yvenger
Summary: Douglas moved to the City to play football, not to develop a crush on the representative of the local law enforcement, and yet here we.or,being registered as the significant other of a superhero has some serious consequences for all involved.





	through the smoke to the sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owngoal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owngoal/gifts).



> Dear giftee,  
> I really fell in love with your prompt and this was incredibly lovely to write. I hope you like it <3

  
  
  


The City was the single biggest human settlement for miles, with peaking high rises and sprawling neighborhoods that faded into clustered suburbs. At night, its streets lit up with street lights and neon signs, casting deep shadows on the myriad of people out for a night on the town or returning to their warm homes. 

 

Douglas had moved to the City to play football, leaving behind his sleepy small town as soon as he got his hands on a contract. He called his mother every other Sunday and his father less than that. He’d never known how to build deeply meaningful connections off the football field, so there weren’t many friends to write to. 

 

The stadium he played and practiced at in the City was alright. It was decently full on game days but fairly out of the way of other main structures that would make it an interesting target for a hostage situation or even a decent amount of collateral damage.

 

With as big as the City was, it was perhaps understandable that it had a bit of a crime problem. Or, more accurately, it had a supervillain problem. Crime, in Douglas limited experience, was vandalism and petty theft, with a story of domestic abuse occasionally setting fire to the town’s rumor mill. Crime usually didn’t include raving lunatics in silver sky suits threatening to encase a grocery store in ice for a couple of dollar bills. Yet this was the kind of thing that happened every Tuesday in the City, to the point where the Citizens were so used to it that it barely even disturbed their daily shopping routine. 

 

In response to the unusual crime wave, the City had come up with an unusual solution - superheroes. Crime in the City was very rarely handled by the sort of kindly sharp-eyed old men that Douglas remembered from middle school presentations. Instead, it came down to individuals in bright spandex, superpowers, and the occasional cape.

 

Douglas frequently wondered if it was really the best way to handle things, but it seemed to work reasonably well. He supposed every place had its quirks.

 

Superheroes were split into ranks - Rank A dealing with the most heinous of criminals as well as the occasional radioactive gorilla climbing onto tall buildings, and down to rank D that dealt with small-time thugs and thieves. Rank A were the most skilled of individuals, with special powers, while rank D were people rarely more empowered to fight crime than Douglas himself. Still, it was a way to make a living in the City, as the mysterious City Council would award a superhero a certain sum of money with the amount and the seriousness of the crimes they’d stopped.

 

Douglas had learned all of this from a teammate a few days into his tenure at the club. That teammate had been open about his desire to become a superhero too and had ended his contract a few weeks later in order to officially start his new life. The last time Douglas had seen him he was chasing after a group of teenagers on an orange painted bicycle. He looked stressed.

 

Neighborhoods had designated superhero protectors, who typically lived on its premises. It took about a month of living in his new apartment for Douglas to catch a glimpse of his.

  
  


*

  
  


Douglas’s main mode of transportation was his bicycle because he didn’t have a car and he wasn’t willing to brave the City’s underground system. It was rumored that it was overrun with a secretive cult and it constantly smelled of ozone because of all the superheroes and supervillains that had made their lairs in abandoned side tunnels.

 

So Douglas used his bicycle, a rusted mangled old thing he’d slathered in red paint in an attempt to make it look fresher. Apparently, he’d succeeded because that was the only explanation as to why someone would be trying to steal it on a blazingly hot August day.

 

He could only see the back of the would-be thief’s head as they leaned over his bike. They were entirely bald, with a strange skin condition that left their skin looking slightly green and scaly. Douglas attributed the weird sight to the early stages of sunstroke he was in and immediately started yelling.

 

“Hey, bastard!” he yelled, running towards the thief. “Leave my bike alone!”

 

That was when the thief turned around and Douglas realized that he’d in fact been wrong in his previous assessment. The thief didn’t have a skin condition that resulted in green scales. They were actually a lizard.

 

A man-sized lizard wearing a leather jacket in full midday sun, but a lizard nonetheless.

 

“What did you just call me?” the lizard hissed at him. “You dare curse at the Mighty Fantastic Lizard Man? I’ll destroy you, fool!”

 

Douglas had a brief moment of contemplation as to whether the lizard’s full name was actually the Mighty Fantastic Lizard Man, or if he’d just added those adverbs to make himself seem cooler. But then again, if he was only named Lizard Man, wouldn’t that be too common of a name among lizard people-

 

The lizard sprung forward, pinning Douglas against the wall with a powerful grip on his neck. His clawed hands constricted on Douglas’s throat and his vision started getting dizzy. 

 

Then suddenly, a football-sized object came flying over, hitting the Majestic Fabulous Lizard Man directly in the head, causing him to let go of Douglas’s throat, letting in some badly needed oxygen. 

 

As Douglas choked and caught his breath, the Momentarily Fantabulous Lizard Man turned on the real threat, a silhouette of a man on the pavement in front of him. How he was casting a silhouette was beyond Douglas, as the sun was actually in front of him. 

 

The football-shaped object turned out to actually be a football, although a strangely silver colored one. It rolled to the superhero’s feet like an obedient dog, though the sound it made as it rolled made Douglas think that it must have been a lot heavier than a usual football would be.

 

“You!” the Marvelous Fanfare Lizard Man hissed. 

 

“Lizard Man!” the superhero intoned in a voice that was both deep and awe-inspiring, “you’re wanted for several assaults and theft! I’ve come to bring you in. Surrender willingly, or I’ll have to take you in by force.”

 

The lizard seemed to inflate at his words, drawing itself up to its considerable height and flexing its muscles. “My name is Magnificent Fabtastic Lizard Man!” he screamed. “You’ll never take me alive!”

 

After all the posturing, the fight was over fairly quickly. The mystery superhero kicked his football and it flew with much force and precision at the lizard. Douglas would have whistled in admiration if he weren’t still trying to draw breath into his lungs.

 

Unfortunately, the lizard made a very bad goalkeeper - it dodged the ball and flew straight towards the superhero. A moment later, it yelped as the wayward football came flying back, seemingly of its own accord, and rolled over its lizard-ly toes. This was followed immediately by two devastating kicks of the superhero’s feet that seemed to have muscle and bones made of titanium or something because the Morose Failure Lizard Man was out cold.

 

Douglas blinked incredulously as an armored van came rolling smoothly down the road, packed up the immobilized lizard as the policeman shook the superhero’s hand, and then departed just as quickly. 

 

Douglas was still staring after the van blankly when he heard a cough. When he looked up, the superhero was looking at him with a concerned expression. Up close, he was almost alarmingly cute, despite the bright pink accents of his spandex uniform.

 

“Are you okay?” the superhero asked. His voice was a lot softer and musical than when he was yelling at the lizard.

 

“Fine,” Douglas croaked out. “Thank you for saving me.”

 

“Ah,” the superhero smiled, surprisingly sweet, “it’s kind of my job. Are you hurt anywhere else except your neck?”

 

Douglas paused a moment to asses himself. “I don’t think so,” he whispered.

 

“Okay,” the superhero nodded and crouched down next to him, “let’s get you to a medical center just in case. It isn’t far from here.”

 

“Ah, you don’t have to go to any more trouble-” Douglas started, but the superhero was already slinging his arm over his shoulder and pulling him to his feet.

 

“It’s no trouble,” the superhero said firmly. “Say, are you new around here? I haven’t seen you around before.”

 

“A month,” Douglas croaked out, “my name is Douglas.”

 

He noticed that the football was following them as they walked, rolling along and expertly avoiding pedestrians.

 

“Hi, Douglas,” the superhero said warmly, “I’m one of the superheroes involved in protecting this neighborhood. I’m Rank B - Die Ball.”

 

Douglas stopped in his tracks suddenly. “Wait,” he said, “your name is Die Ball.”

 

Die Ball visibly flinched. “Everyone has that reaction,” he said, morose, “but I swear I didn’t choose it for myself. I’ve been applying to have it changed for over a year now, but I keep getting rejected. I think someone at the City Council must have a sick sense of humor.”

 

“Ah,” Douglas said as they started walking again, “I guess it’s not that bad?”

 

“I’m afraid it’s going to stick,” Die Ball said, frowning, “and anyway - you can call me Paulo if you want. Most people do.”

 

“Paulo,” Douglas said, softly as to not hurt his aching throat further, “thank you.”

 

Paulo flashed him a smile as the bright neon facade of the medical center rose up in front of them. They stepped through the revolving door into a waiting room that was thankfully mostly empty at this hour.

 

Ignoring all the other people in the room, Paulo guided Douglas towards the back.

 

“Hey, Paul!” Paulo called out. “Paul? Are you here?”

 

“Coming!” came a voice from the back, right before a tall and awfully handsome man appeared in the doorway. He looked like a supermodel in his nurse scrubs and he practically seemed to glide across the laminate floor to them. It was possible that Douglas was dealing with a smidgeon of a concussion at this point.

 

“Paulo!” Paul said, giving him a sharp once-over, “are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine,” Paulo said, “but my friend had an up-close encounter with a giant lizard. Could you check him over?”

 

Looking at him, Douglas marveled at the transformation. Gone was the too-confident form of the superhero, or the concerned nursemaid. Instead, Paulo’s whole being seemed to be focused on Paul, with an intensity so tender that Douglas felt like he was intruding.

 

“Paulo saved me,” Douglas croaked out, as he was unceremoniously seated into a nearby chair. If Paulo saved his life, the least he could do was make him look awesome in front of his crush.

 

“Paulo did, huh?” Paul asked with a smile, between making concerned noises over Douglas’s neck. “I thought you were going by Die Ball these days?”

 

He directed the question at Paulo, who visibly flushed under his gaze. “Not you too,” he said, “I’m worried that it’s going to stick and then what am I supposed to do?”

 

Douglas let their chatter wash over him. All of a sudden, he was just so tired, too tired to hold himself up anymore. Darkness took him into its warm and tender embrace.

 

*

 

Douglas woke up in an empty room. Neither Paulo nor Paul the nurse was anywhere to be found, but there was IV fluid dripping slowly and hypnotically into his vein. He offered up a quick prayer of thanks that he didn’t have any practice the next day, before dropping off into sleep.

 

He dreamt that he was juggling with Paulo’s silver football and that Paulo was looking at him admiringly, saying, “No one has ever juggled my balls before!” and it was nice enough that he woke up with a smile on his face.

  
  


*

 

Douglas caught occasional glimpses of Paulo over the next couple of days, though the other man never had any actual time to talk or acknowledge Douglas’s existence. In his defense, whenever Douglas saw him, Paulo was typically flying through the air, either dodging deadly attacks or delivering them. In the end, so much time had passed that Douglas felt weird approaching Paulo without a good reason.

 

Especially since Douglas’s reason would have been that he thought Paulo was really cute and Douglas wanted to spend more time with him. Considering how over the moon Paulo had been over the handsome nurse, Douglas didn’t really think he’d be able to compete on that level. So instead, he just stayed quiet and occasionally moved a trash can out of the way so Paulo wouldn’t go flying into it and dirty up his uniform.

  
  


*

  
  


All was quiet in Douglas’s life for a couple of months. He played football and he did it pretty well if his rising goal count and the rising attendance figures were any indications. Any crime related encounters soundly avoided him. It was actually suspicious how much they avoided him.

 

“What do you mean you walked home in the dark last night and weren’t mugged?” his teammate Leo asked him in morning practice. Douglas shrugged.

 

“Just lucky, I guess,” he said. Like he got lucky dodging a laser blast aimed at his face because he’d caught a glimpse of silver in the corner of his eye. Or that time he’d had his route diverted by a fallen tree and had somehow managed to avoid a mutated bear that was on a rampage in his favorite park. He was just lucky like that.

 

Or someone was looking out for him.

  
  


*

  
  


Douglas had almost managed to put his close encounter with Paulo entirely out of his mind when something very unusual happened. He was walking to the grocery store for a late night snack when something glinted silver in the corner of his eye. He froze as Paulo’s silver ball came rolling out of the shadows to rest at his feet.

 

Douglas looked around, frowning. “Paulo? Are you there?”

 

No reply. The street seemed deserted. Douglas tried to move, but the ball followed, sticking to his toes. 

 

“This is really weird,” Douglas said, feeling silly. “Uh, are you lost or something?”

 

The ball seemed to glint, glowing brighter in the half dark. Douglas squinted at it carefully, and to his horror, he spotted a smudge of color on the polished silver surface.

 

“Is that blood?” he asked, gripped with a sudden fear. “Is Paulo hurt? Can you take me to him?”

 

In response, the ball rolled a few paces away, almost vibrating in apparent excitement.

 

“This is so weird,” Douglas repeated out loud. “Okay, lead the way.”

 

The ball rolled away, into the shadows of the alleyways and Douglas followed it in a light run, feeling both stupid and apprehensive. He chased the ball like that for a couple of minutes, dodging broken bottles and trash cans, and once, memorably, a group of rats dressed up in suits, looking like they were in the middle of a mob meeting.

 

Every city had its quirks.

 

He was still thinking about the rats when he almost stumbled over Paulo, propped up against the wall in an alley. 

 

“Fuck,” Douglas said softly, crouching next to Paulo’s prone form, “what the fuck happened to you?”

 

Paulo cracked his eyes open, blinking at him incomprehensibly for a few moments. “Douglas?” he finally muttered, voice hoarse and cracked. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m going to take you to a hospital,” Douglas said, firm. “Do you think you can walk?”

 

“Ah,” Paulo said, blearily looking down at his legs. One of his feet was twisted at a weird angle and Douglas couldn’t make himself look at it for too long.

 

“Okay,” Douglas muttered, “okay, we’ll do it like this then.”

 

Very carefully, he put his arms around Paulo’s back and under his knees, lifting him into a bridal carry. Paulo let out a pained gasp, but for the most part, he was quiet, seemingly fading in and out of consciousness. In the light coming off from one of the windows, his face was one massive bloody bruise and Douglas’s heart ached in his chest.

 

Paulo was solid, if not exactly heavy. Douglas knew he wouldn’t be able to carry him like this for very long. 

 

“Do you know the way to the nearest medical center?” Douglas asked the ball, feeling slightly less ridiculous about it now. The ball seemed to vibrate again and then it rolled away, at a slower pace that he could follow.

 

“Your ball is very smart,” he told Paulo, who let out a soft pained huff, which at least meant he was still alive. 

 

“Hold on just a little bit longer,” Douglas said, softly, “just a little bit longer.”

 

His footsteps were heavy and loud on the pavement, and there was no other sound except for their labored breathing, like the rest of the City stood holding its breath. Ahead, the mouth of the alley and beyond it, the pavement glittered like gold.

 

“Just a bit longer,” Douglas whispered, “almost there.”

 

*

 

Douglas must have fallen asleep in the waiting room because he woke up to a nurse shaking him awake. The lights of the waiting room caused bright needles of pain to pierce through his brain, and he blinked blearily, trying to reorient himself.

 

“Sir?” the nurse said, with a degree of patience he probably didn’t deserve. “The patient you brought in is out of surgery. The doctor expects he’ll recover fully.”

 

“Oh,” Douglas said dumbly. The nurse’s smile got even kinder.

 

“Do you know the patient?” she asked. “He was found without any ID and I’m trying to figure out what to input into the system.”

 

“He’s a superhero,” Douglas blurted out and the nurse nodded encouragingly, typing something on the tablet in her arms. 

 

“His name?” she asked.

 

“Uh, Paulo,” he said and at her expectant look, he realized that he’d never gotten to learn Paulo’s surname.

 

“Last name?”

 

“Uh,” the silver ball at his feet caught his eye, giving him an idea, “Die ball.”

 

“Oh, here he is,” she said, squinting at something on the screen, “Paulo Dybala, 24 years old. And what is your relationship to him?”

 

“Uh,” Douglas repeated, his mind stalling. What could he say that would let him see Paulo? “I’m his boyfriend.” Fuck.

 

“His boyfriend,” the nurse repeated thoughtfully, looking at the screen, “it says here that his significant other slot is blank.”

 

Double fuck. “It’s a recent development,” Douglas bluffed, looking up at her imploringly, “please, can I go see him?”

 

“I don’t know if I can let you in,” she said, looking apologetic. 

 

Suddenly, the silver ball on the floor seemed to vibrate, then bounce, once, twice and straight into Douglas’s lap. Douglas stared at it, dumbfounded, and got an idea. “See this,” he said, pointing at the ball, “if I wasn’t his boyfriend, would I be allowed to handle his ball like this?”

 

The tenseness of the situation along with his unintentional innuendo threatened to push him into hysterical laughter, but he managed to hold it in, trying to look firm. The nurse checked the screen again. 

 

“Well, this does say that he has a semi-sentient silver ball that he takes everywhere,” she said, “it’s even listed as his sidekick.”

 

The ball bounced in Douglas’s lap and he had to fight off another round of hysterical giggles. Only the thought of Paulo got him through it.

 

“Please, can I see him?” Douglas repeated and the nurse seemed to cave.

 

“Yes, alright,” she said, sighing, “follow me.”

 

Douglas followed her down a long corridor filled with identical doors. His sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floor, the only sound except for the beeping of heart monitors and the occasional pained moan. The ball seemed content to be carried, vibrating harder in his hands the longer they walked and the closer they got to Paulo’s room.

 

“In here,” the nurse said, opening one of the doors, “and ten minutes, no more. I’ll come to get you.”

 

Suddenly overwhelmed, Douglas thanked her and hurried into the dimly lit room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The centerpiece of the room was the hospital bed, where Paulo was lying, hooked up to the heart monitor that beeped steadily. Douglas let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, even as his chest clenched painfully at the sight of the bandages, stark white against Paulo’s tanned skin. 

 

Carefully, he placed the ball, which was warm to the touch by now, at the bottom of Paulo’s bed. For a moment, there seemed to be a spike in his heartbeat, and Douglas almost flew into a panic, but then it evened out into its previous even pattern. 

 

After a few minutes where nothing else happened, Douglas dragged a chair next to the bed and sat down. Looking at Paulo’s face, at the bruises under his eyes and the sweep of his eyelashes, it made everything sink in. 

 

“They really did a number on you, huh,” Douglas said softly, aimed at no one in particular. Paulo didn’t answer, and the machine beeped. One of Paulo’s hands was resting on his stomach over the covers. The IV drip made his veins look like they were standing out. 

 

Douglas reached out to touch his fingertips carefully. They were warm. Alive.

 

The door to the room opened, startling him into jerking away. The nurse smiled at him apologetically. “Ten minutes are up,” she said and he nodded, rising to his feet and putting the chair back.

 

“We’ll take good care of him,” she said to him once they were outside the room and walking through the corridor that seemed to stretch on twice as long as before. “You just go home and rest, and then you can visit him tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you,” Douglas said and she smiled again, and left him in the lobby of the medical center, where it was considerably louder. There was a child crying into its father’s arms on one of the benches. It had a lego stuck up its nostril. Curiously, the father did too.

 

Douglas walked out through the automatic doors and into the night that was already waking up into the morning.

  
  


*

  
  


Douglas didn’t end up visiting Paulo after all. 

 

He woke up late the next day, too stiff joints and several missed calls. By the time he’d managed to get up, it was already late afternoon. He’d missed practice and his manager yelled at him over the phone but was understanding after Douglas explained. He’d spent the rest of the day in a sort of tired haze, numb except for when he was worried about Paulo finding out he’d introduced himself as his boyfriend and then watched him while he slept. That was the thing creepy stalkers did.

 

He went to sleep early, exhausted by his own mind. 

  
  


*

  
  


For the next week, Douglas caught himself marveling at how normal he felt. Life went on. He went to practice and he continued to make an excuse not to visit Paulo every day. On Monday it was because practice ran late, and on Tuesday there was a shark attack on the street he would have had to take to get to the hospital (how that was possible was entirely a mystery since the City wasn’t anywhere near the seaside). On Wednesday he got terrible cramps at practice and a teammate had to drive him home. On Thursday, he shopped too late at the grocery store. On Friday, he fell into a deep funk, convinced that Paulo would be furious at him for a hundred other reasons he’d managed to come up with in the meantime and then he just never ended up going. 

 

So a month later when his doorbell rang, Douglas was hoping that it was his superintendent, coming to finally fix his leaking faucet. 

 

It wasn’t.

 

“Hi,” Paulo said, smiling softly, “am I interrupting anything?”

 

Douglas’s mouth hung open and he was quiet for long enough that Paulo became visibly nervous. “I can just go if you’re busy,” he said.

 

With a supreme amount of effort, Douglas found his words. “No, sorry, I was just surprised,” he choked out, “do you want to come in? I have coffee.”

 

“Coffee would be nice,” Paulo said and stepped inside. His movements were still a little awkward and he walked with a slight limp. Douglas thought of the two flights of stairs that led up to his apartment and winced. He gestured Paulo into a kitchen chair, the one that felt less like it was going to fall apart in a minute.

 

Paulo sat down heavily and set his backpack on the ground. After a moment, movement from it caught Douglas’s eye. The backpack seemed to wiggle in place, then jump a few centimeters off the ground.

 

“Is that…” Douglas started, looking at Paulo curiously.

 

“Oh, yeah!” Paulo said and leaned over to unzip the bag. The silver ball barreled out, rolling to Douglas’s feet where it seemed to vibrate like an overzealous puppy. “It really seems to like you.”

 

“Um,” Douglas said, looking between the ball and Paulo, “how much does it actually understand?”

 

“More than it was supposed to when it was designed,” Paulo said, and the ball vibrated proudly, “it’s a form of artificial intelligence, connected to me through a conductor in my leg.”

 

“In your leg?” Douglas asked, surprised. Paulo bent down to roll up his pant leg, exposing a sock and then skin that was too pink to be real. “You’re a cyborg.”

 

Cyborgs weren’t exactly uncommon in the City, as replacement body parts were one of its leading industries. With the amount of violence, Citizens got confronted with every day, there were always plenty of patients.

 

“Lost my leg in a car accident,” Paulo said, a touch of sadness in his smile, “and back then, they didn’t let you play football professionally with one of these. Apparently, it was an unfair advantage.”

 

He tapped his leg, stretching it out.

 

“They changed that rule a couple of years ago,” Douglas said. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he went to his kitchenette and started pouring coffee into the mugs.

 

“I know, but I’d already missed too much conditioning by then,” Paulo shrugged, “and I found different dreams.”

 

“Being a football player superhero?” Douglas asked, amused despite himself.

 

Paulo grinned. “Okay, so I couldn’t give it up entirely. It worked out for the better, I think.”

 

Abruptly, Douglas remembered his bruised and bloodied face, and all the humor went out of the situation. He brought the coffee to the table, balancing the milk and sugar in the crook of his arm. He waited for Paulo to fix his mug before speaking again.

 

“You got really hurt, this time,” he said, quietly. Paulo shrugged.

 

“It’s not the first time,” Paulo said, “and it probably wouldn’t be the last.”

 

The flippancy grated, but Douglas swallowed down his comments. Paulo didn’t need his worry. 

 

“Are you doing okay now? Your leg seemed in pretty bad shape.”

 

“Yeah, I’m lucky they got the prosthetic. This one is totally new,” he patted his knee. “At least the link to the ball wasn’t really damaged, so I still got this guy.”

 

The ball had rolled over to rest under Paulo’s chair like a loyal dog. At the sudden attention, it bounced happily in place.

 

“So you could send it for help?” Douglas asked, carefully.

 

“Yeah,” Paulo said, “apparently it went to the medical center first, but they couldn’t understand what it was trying to tell them. So then it went for the next best thing.”

 

“Me?” Douglas asked, surprised.

 

“You,” Paulo confirmed, “the technician checked and it had your heat signature and DNA sample stored in as an emergency contact. It did that on its own, which isn’t supposed to be possible. It’s got the scientists all up in arms.”

 

“Oh,” Douglas said, “that’s flattering, if a little bit scary.”

 

There was an awkward pause, where they both avoided each other’s eyes.

 

“You introduced yourself as my boyfriend, in the hospital,” Paulo said abruptly.

 

Immediately, Douglas was mortified. “I’m so sorry about that. I wanted to return the ball and I didn’t just want to leave it with the medical staff. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

 

“Oh,” Paulo said, frowning.

 

Douglas hurriedly continued, before Paulo remembered how angry he was at him. “I know you and Paul had a thing going on. I didn’t mean to make anything awkward.”

 

“Paul moved to another City like a month ago, he got a better job offer,” Paulo said, giving him a strange look. “And nothing really was going on. I had a crush, I’ll admit it, but I’m over it now.”

 

“Oh,” Douglas said, at a loss. Paulo was still looking at him in a way he couldn’t even begin to decode, with his brain suddenly all jumbled up.

 

“I didn’t mind,” Paulo said.

 

“What?” Douglas asked, feeling his cheeks heat up in a blush.

 

“That you called yourself my boyfriend.”

 

All the air seemed to have left the room in a rush and Douglas tried to breathe through his dry throat. He suddenly remembered the cup of coffee that he was holding and gulped it all down in a rush.

 

“Then…” Douglas started, stopped, and tried again. “Tomorrow, there’s a football match I’m playing. Would you want to come?”

 

Paulo smiled. “I’d really like that,” he said.

  
  


*

 

Douglas chanced a look into the stands just before kick-off, searching for an eyecatching cape or a glint of silver, but he found neither. However, he did spot Paulo leaning over the fence to wave at him, in casual clothes and a big smile on his face. That was, in many ways, much better.

 

He was so distracted by the sight that he almost missed the sound of the whistle going off and the game started, but he regained his equilibrium soon enough as the opposing defender flew into his legs, sweeping him straight off his feet.

 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t to be the match’s only interruption.

 

Thirty minutes in, it had to be paused because a villain dressed as a squid flew onto the field and kidnapped Douglas straight off the field while he was getting ready to take a penalty (marking the first time that a hostage situation was greeted with a sigh of relief from the opposition). 

 

Luckily, he wasn’t subjected to dangling from a slimy tentacle for long. A silver ball crashed with a satisfying thunk into the monster and Paulo, sudden cape and all, made quick work of the hapless villain, sweeping Douglas off his feet and onto safety.

 

They stood on top of one of the stadium floodlights, Douglas clinging onto Paulo and pouting about his new status as the Douglas in Distress, without actually getting any of the benefits. 

 

“I, uh, took the liberty of leaving your name in as my significant other,” Paulo confessed flushing, which shut Douglas up almost as fast as the kiss that he pressed to his mouth right after.

 

It was almost worth it, taking the stairs all the way down to grass level because Paulo hadn’t yet developed spontaneous power of flight. 

 

The opposition fans were less thrilled when the penalty was not forgotten about and subsequently scored, along with two additional goals that wrapped Douglas’s game with a hat trick that prompted almost embarrassingly loud cheering from his newly minted boyfriend sitting in the fan section.

 

Said boyfriend then took Douglas to a romantic dinner, while neatly stopping three robberies, as well as saving an abnormally large kitten off a tree and returning it to its elderly owner. All the superheroing did make the date last longer than it would have usually, but luckily no one was on fire by the time they made it back to Douglas’s apartment and shut the door on all the evil in the world.

 

*

 

And so all was back to normal in the City, at least until the next time someone’s experiments with the cat genome were fated to go terribly awfully wrong.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might notice that the world building of this is a little similar to the premise of the anime One Punch Man. I really drew inspiration from there because I didn't want this to totally fall into the niche of superhero AUs and its surrealist humor really appeals to me. I hope it makes sense and I'm available for any questions you might have. And if you're looking for anime recs - One Punch Man is a pretty solid choice to watch.


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